


Buried Alive

by RandoFando_Spoonie



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Booker | Sebastien le Livre Whump, Buried Alive, Exiled Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Gen, No. 4, Revenge sorta, Temporary Character Death, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandoFando_Spoonie/pseuds/RandoFando_Spoonie
Summary: Booker wakes up after Quỳnh's arrival at his apartment and realizes he's been buried alive, how long will it take for him to be found? And who exactly will find him? And how?
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & James Copley, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947640
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	Buried Alive

**Author's Note:**

> I found the letters with the right accents for both Nicolò & Quỳnh's names so I will be doing my best to remember to use them correctly in my fics going forward, and to go back and edit those fics that already have them. =) 
> 
> People's cultures, names and spellings are important. Glad I can do this and help keep the proper spellings out there.

No. 4: Running out of time: Caged / Buried Alive / Collapsed building

He gasped awake into the darkness, trying to move he very quickly connected with the sides and lid of a coffin. _What the fuck?_ He tried pushing on the lid but it would not budge, okay so that was bad. He tried to control his breathing but tight spaces had never been the best thing for him. He blamed it on the nightmares, the dreams really. And really who could blame him.

His head pounded, he was hungover. He tried to think tried to remember but everything was fuzzy. He shoved against the lid again, nothing. He swore soundly in French, trying to control his breathing, and failing. He knew if he used up all his oxygen this would get bad for him really fast. And it wasn't like anyone would know where he was, no one would dream of him.

He struggled and fought against his instincts, his body, his fear, everything. He tried to remember what happened. He remembered, he thought, coming home to his apartment, to finding... Quỳnh, oh fuck. Quỳnh. She'd killed him and somehow managed to get him into a coffin and buried because wasn't that some kind of fucked up vengeance?

He'd dreamt of her dying and coming back for two hundred years, unable to help, or maybe unwilling through his own pain, his own lack of understanding of where she might be. And sure they had had _some_ money, but enough to find a ship with the size they'd need to sustain their search, to have the kind of equipment they'd need to dive down to the depths she was likely at?

Surely Quỳnh had to know that? How impossible it was to continue the search? He remembered how cold her voice when she'd told him how 'nice' it was to finally meet him. At least the dreams would stop now.

He considered screaming, yelling for help, beating on the lid of the coffin till his hand and knees bled, like Quỳnh had all those years in the sea. But if she'd buried him the way he thought she'd had, he'd be too deep and too remote for anyone to hear him.

He wondered how long he'd be down here? How many times would he suffocate? If he didn't show up at the bar in a century would they come looking for him, or would they assume that like Andy, his immortality had run out at some point?

He started to cry and then he started punching. He couldn't get much force going but he'd do it, he'd work on it for as long as it took to break the box he was in. He hoped it wasn't metal, that would suck. He punched and punched until his arms gave out, his lungs heaved and he succumbed to the lack of oxygen in the small box.

He gasped awake again... how many times had it been now? Thirty? Three hundred? He didn't know, he did know he was making progress, or thought he was, maybe he was delusional? He punched at the lid of the coffin and thought he heard a crack, or was it a thump? He wasn't sure, his ears were already ringing with deprivation, he punched again, though it was weak and swore heard another crack or thump. He tried for one more punch but he was too weak, there was so little air now that he died quicker each time he awoke, soon he'd have no energy to punch he'd wake to die and wake again over and over for eternity.

He gasped awake one final time the rush of oxygen and fresh, cool air making his nerve endings sing and he shuddered hard, rolling onto his side and coughing harshly.

“Easy, easy, I've got you.” A distant voice spoke as he was gently gathered into strong arms.

He sobbed in the arms of his rescuer for a long time though neither of them were ones for large displays of emotions usually. He vaguely heard the sound of shovels, of a hole being filled. Eventually he managed to speak.

“How long?” His voice was hoarse from screaming and crying, a bottle was pressed into his hands and he took a careful sip, water.

“A week.” Copley's voice answered from where he held the shaking Frenchman, “Nile saw you in her dreams of Quỳnh. It wasn't easy but we figure out where she'd brought you.”

“Felt like a lifetime.” He murmured, not daring to look to see who was filling the hole.

The sounds stopped after a while and two pairs of booted feet showed up in his vision, the owners crouching down and Booker chanced a look.

Joe and Nicky knelt before him, both looking miserable, dirty and relieved. Nicky, rather surprisingly, opened his arms first and Booker sobbed again, managing to launch himself from Copley's arms into the arms of his brothers. They held each other and cried, Booker's sobbed apologies met with soothing touches and kind words. Words he didn't feel worthy of.

Who knew being buried alive would lead to his rebirth...

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on Tumblr: RandoFando-Spoonie
> 
> As always, kudos aren't necessary but appreciated.


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